


The Bargain

by glymr, iesika



Series: Kings Among Runaways [14]
Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Jason is a juvenile delinquent, M/M, Prostitution, who will burn your house down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-14
Updated: 2009-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:58:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glymr/pseuds/glymr, https://archiveofourown.org/users/iesika/pseuds/iesika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wayne is sitting there staring at him, his thick, scarred legs and his huge fucking chest not hidden at all by a flimsy silk robe.</p><p>Jason swallows, and then he just stands there getting stared at until he wants to scream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bargain

They’ve been fed three times now, not counting the cookies, and Pennyworth wants to be called Alfred, and Batman wants to be called Bruce, and nobody’s talking about the Grayson kid, or the cops, or social services.

Jason would have sworn he hadn’t slept , but by the time Tim woke up, there had been clothes on the dresser – new ones, not hand-me-downs. Jason had torn their bags apart, and found everything still there and apparently undisturbed, except for the nine he’d snatched two weeks ago from under a dealer’s pillow.

Tim had dressed in the new clothes – a polo and some gray slacks that somehow fit the way he walked. Jason didn’t change – just followed him down to the dining room in the same grungy jeans he’d been nabbed in, pink shit still all over the back of his shirt. He hopes they got the message.

They’re back in the room, now, and Tim’s sleeping easy as Jason’s ever seen. Jason’s been staring at the door for at least two hours, and sleep is pulling at the backs of his eyeballs, and Wayne hasn’t made a move, and Jason’s going a little insane.

Tim mumbles and lets go of him to roll over. Before he can settle his back against Jason’s, though, Jason is sliding carefully off the bed, across the floor, and out the door.

There’s a light on at the end of the hall, and it turns out to be Wayne, reading something that he sets aside before Jason even makes a sound. The room is full of bookshelves, and things, and Jason’s not sure what the difference is between a library and a study, but that doesn’t really matter when Wayne is sitting there staring at him, his thick, scarred legs and his huge fucking chest not hidden at all by a flimsy silk robe.

Jason swallows, and then he just stands there getting stared at until he wants to scream.

Wayne finally uncrosses his legs and sits up straight. God, he’s fucking huge. “Do you need something, Jason?”

“Yeah,” Jason says, and then, stronger, “yeah,” because he’s not afraid of Batman. “I need you to leave Tim the fuck alone.”

Wayne blinks once, and then says, “I have no intention of—“

“No,” Jason says, “shut up. If you touch him, I’ll kill you. If you – if you ever give him a reason to be afraid, I’ll kill you. I don’t care if you are the fucking Batman. I’ll kill you, and I’ll kill your goddamned butler, and I’ll burn this house to the fucking ground.”

Wayne doesn’t blink this time. He just watches Jason, his face blank as stone, and says, “I’ve spent my entire life training under the world’s masters of combat.”

“I don’t care,” Jason says, and it’s not bravado, it’s the truth. Wayne could snap him like a twig where he stands, and Jason doesn’t care. “I’ll do it anyway.”

Wayne smiles. It’s really kind of a scary smile, all narrow eyes and sharply twisted lips. “You love him a great deal.”

“He’s just a kid,” Jason growls. “He’s the smartest kid in the whole damned world, but he doesn’t know shit about people, about what they’re like inside. He’s good. He’s not like the rest of us.”

“Us,” Wayne says.

It’s not a question, but Jason pulls his fists tight and says, “yeah.”

“Hm.”

Jason wants to punch him. He digs his nails into his palms instead and says, “I’ll pay his price. Whatever you want from him, you take it from me.” Wayne doesn’t blink, and Jason starts to sweat. “He’s warm, he’s fed, he’s happy, and as near as I can tell, he’s safe from everything but you. I-“ Jason looks away for the first time, examining the carpet under his feet. “I know I can’t keep him safe forever out there. He won’t let me.”

“Hm,” Wayne says again. “The burglaries were his idea.”

Jason doesn’t know how he knows, so he just shrugs.

“There are a limited number of ways for boys your age to support yourselves on the street. All three are illegal. All three leave victims. One of them leaves no victims but the self.”

Jason doesn’t ask. He’s pretty sure he knows, anyway. There's drugs, sex, and hurting people. He’s always made his choices very carefully.

“Tim found a way to limit casualties to what he felt was acceptable.”

Jason doesn’t look up again for a long time, until the silence makes his skin itch. Wayne’s eyes are soft, now, and Jason realizes they’re blue, like Tim’s. It makes them harder to meet, but he does it anyway.

“I’m heterosexual,” Wayne says. “Mostly. The last time I felt sexual desire for a minor, I was sixteen years old.” He pauses. “If you take more care with your own safety, there’s no reason you can’t continue to see to your friend’s happiness yourself."

 

*

Jason slips back into bed and presses his face into the pillow. He’s not sure why he feels so humiliated – why somehow this is worse than if Wayne had bent him over or beat him down. It’s not like he’d wanted it, or anything, but the rejection leaves him feeling useless and hollow.

 

He doesn’t have anything Wayne wants, he realizes. There’s nothing left to bargain.

“You’re shaking,” Tim says, and Jason should have known he’d be awake. “Jesus. What did he do?”

Jason doesn’t roll over, even when Tim tugs. “Nothing,” he mumbles into the pillow.

There’s a pause and then - “I’ll kill him,” Tim swears, and rips the covers back to get his feet onto the floor.

Jason has to roll over and grab him around the waist, roll them back to the middle of the huge bed just to hold him there and laugh against the warmth of his belly. “I’m okay,” he mumbles, and kisses Tim once just above his navel, where his shirt has ridden up.

“If he hurt you—“

“Tim,” he murmurs, and Tim’s hands find their way into his hair to pet and tangle and curl it around his fingertips.

“Jason,” Tim says back, barely more than a sigh. His belly jerks under Jason’s breath. Jason smiles and rubs his face against it.

“Go back to sleep, kiddo,” he says. “We’re okay.”


End file.
